Burns in his heart since the fair Pole

Is placed within the chief's control.

The young Maria recent war

Had borne in conquest from afar;

Not long her love-enkindling eyes

Had gazed upon these foreign skies;

Her aged father's boast and pride,

She bloomed in beauty by his side;

Each wish was granted ere expressed.

She to his heart the object dearest,

His sole desire to see her blessed;

As when the skies from clouds are clearest,

Still from her youthful heart to chase

Her childish sorrows his endeavour,

Hoping in after life that never

Her woman's duties might efface

Remembrance of her earlier hours,

But oft that fancy would retrace

Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers.

Her form a thousand charms unfolded,

Her face by beauty's self was moulded,

Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,--

All nature's stores on her were lavished;

The magic harp with soft desire,

When touched by her, the senses ravished.

Warriors and knights had sought in vain

Maria's virgin heart to move,

And many a youth in secret pain

Pined for her in despairing love.

But love she knew not, in her breast

Tranquil it had not yet intruded,

Her days in mirth, her nights in rest,

In her paternal halls secluded,